“Grigori,” she moaned his name, but the more he played with her, the more it turned into panting.
He continued to stroke her, as his hand on her throat moved down to open the front of the silk pajamas, exposing her breasts. The sudden nakedness made her vulnerable but her skin flushed with heated desire. She arched up, and shut her eyes, wanton yet shy at the building desire between them. He brushed the backs of his fingers over one nipple and it pebbled beneath his touch. A soft hiss escaped her and she could feel something inside her move . . . Something just beneath her skin.
“Do you want more?” he growled, the sound vibrating along her body and she knew he was asking permission to continue. A gentleman dragon . . .
She jerked her head up and down, incapable of speech. He dropped to his knees and jerked her pajama bottoms down and lifted her feet one at time to tug them completely away. Before she could react he pulled one of her legs up and set it over his shoulder, opening her for him. Then he leaned in and placed a kiss to her inner thigh. Madelyn gripped his shoulder frantically trying to stay upright on her single foot as he glanced up at her with that wolfish grin, before he licked her. The explosion of sensation sent her spiraling into a wild world of colors and emotions. She was racing, flying through the air towards something immense and too beautiful to describe in words.
As he continued to lick her, she came undone, his name escaping her lips in a startled scream that was loud enough to shake the walls around them. Bliss radiated from her lower body, spreading straight to her toes and fingertips as she tried to catch her breath. Her body simply let go after that, and a wind rushed around her, tugging at her hair before she collapsed.
Grigori caught her just before she hit the floor. Good, she wanted nothing more in that moment to lay there sated in his arms. When she looked up at him, she noticed he was staring at her, a confused expression in his eyes.
“The rain, I smell it, stronger now, and a breeze,” he murmured and looked at the window. She followed his gaze. Rain was plinking softly against the windows again. But the windows weren’t open. How had they felt that flutter of wind?
I’m going crazy, that’s it. Mind-blowing oral sex from a dragon shifter has made me go bonkers, and I don’t care.
Grigori held her as she lay completely limp on the floor, little aftershocks of pleasure rippling through her.
“Holy hell,” she whispered, tucking her head in his neck, inhaling his scent. He was one to talk about scents. His made her tingle and feel hungry, but not for food. He smelled like the clean crisp mountain air and trees with a hint of a darker spice that drew her in. He lowered his head to hers, nuzzling her cheek. Grigori’s eyes were closed, a sensual, dreamy smile on his face.
“I plan to dine on you more often,” he chuckled, and the wickedness of his words made her shiver and her inner muscles twitch gloriously at the thought.
“Mmmm,” she made a happy little sound, lacing her fingers in his white dress shirt. For a few seconds she enjoyed this, but then she registered the erection nudging her bottom and glanced up.
“Oh my God, I didn’t . . . You . . . Do you need me to . . .” She blushed, unable to finish.
Grigori, still grinning, shook his head. “I’m fine. This was about you. If you wish, when you are ready, we can talk about me and my needs. But not today,” he said and placed a soft kiss to her temple that should have been chaste, but felt more erotic. A promise of things to come. She could only imagine what sort of things a dragon might have in mind for pleasure. The thought of him pinning her down in the bed made her flush all over again. Maybe they could—
A sharp rap of knuckles on the bedroom door made them both jump.
“You’d best be up, brother. We have to meet the Drakor family in two hours.” Rurik’s voice came through the door and Madelyn sighed. Fantastic daydream-y sexy times were officially over.
“You should shower. I will see that some breakfast is brought up.”
He stood then, lifting her up with him, her legs dangling from his arms and her body tight against his. For the second time since she met him and the second time in her life, she felt as though she weighed nothing at all. It was a feeling she was unaccustomed to, given her full, curvy figure, and she thrilled at it as he stepped into the large, opulent bathroom and set her down. Remembering her state of undress, she jerked the top of her pajamas together to cover her bare breasts, and biting her lip, she closed the bathroom door behind her. Her skin was still sensitive and her legs shaky. The man knew just what to do with his tongue to make a girl see stars.
She let the shirt drop and walked toward the shower. She replayed the last few minutes in her mind, still bothered by something. Grigori said he smelled rain and that a breeze had risen up . . . But how? She had definitely felt a breeze—she had felt it ruffle her hair. She wasn’t crazy—Grigori had also mentioned the breeze. He had also admitted he’d smelled rain. But how? No windows were open, no drafts were evident before that moment or after. Where could a breeze have come from? And where did it go? Had they been beneath an air conditioning vent? Yeah, that had to be it. It was the only logical explanation. As she climbed into the shower and the hot water hit the tiles and her skin, forming a mist, she let her academic brain take over and review what she had read from Barrow’s book.
Barrow had said dragons were around twenty feet tall when standing on all four legs. She couldn’t imagine Grigori suddenly turning into a giant dragon. How was that even possible? But she’d seen him manipulate the fire of the candles last night and his tattoo on his arm had moved and his eyes . . . she would never forget how his eyes had changed.
Dragons are real . . . The weight of that realization was too much. She pressed her head against the marble shower wall and focused on her deep breathing. Once she got out of here, she had to face other realities. Like the dragon war with the Drakors.
They would need to be ready to deal with Dimitri Drakor today. After seeing Barrow’s account of the tense history with the Drakor family, she knew today’s meeting would be crucial. And dangerous. The thought of harm coming to Grigori and Rurik made her angry. The hot water sizzled on her skin and she processed the wild, unexpected feelings of wanting to protect them both. She didn’t know them and they were dragons. There wasn’t anything she could do to help them. But she wanted to. The question was how?
* * *
“Stop smirking.” Grigori growled at his younger brother as they entered the elevator that would take them to his office. Madelyn glanced between them, but since they had spoken in Russian, she had no idea what he had said. And he planned to keep it that way when he was discussing things with Rurik that he didn’t want her to hear. He knew she spoke a little Russian, but not enough to be fluent if he spoke quickly.
“You won’t be able to last long without claiming her.” Rurik crossed his arms and leaned back against the elevator wall. He looked every inch the battle dragon he was in his jeans, boots, and black leather jacket. Grigori had never dressed that . . . casually. Not in Moscow. He had a persona to maintain, a dignity that had to be constantly kept. Even though he could be facing a battle himself today, he’d worn his usual dark gray wool three-piece suit.
“If you survive this . . . you should take her home to the Fire Hills. No woman can resist the beauty of our home. She’d open up to you like a budding flower.” Rurik was still smirking.
If he keeps that up, I’m going to box his ears.
He did want to claim his mate, badly. But he wanted to do it in the privacy of his own bed, where he could open his heart and soul to her so completely that the mating bond would cement him to her. For other supernatural creatures, mating was more physical, a bite to the neck or an exchange of blood. With dragons, it was letting down one’s mental barriers and completely opening their hearts to their mate, usually during intense lovemaking. Once done, it could never be undone.
“I will survive this, brother.” He promised as the elevator door slid open and his receptionist Alexis was
waiting for him.
“Mr. Barinov, I prepared the conference room per your request and—” Alexis halted when she saw Rurik and blushed.
“Alexis, darling,” Rurik pushed past Grigori and approached the human female, his intent very clear as he slung one arm around the woman’s shoulders and smiled. Leave it to his brother to distract his assistant.
Grigori rolled his eyes and then looked to Madelyn. She was totally irresistible in jeans and a light-colored sweater. She wore a knee length black coat and her hair was unbound, tumbling around her in a cascade of warm color, like liquid amber in the firelight’s glow. The brown strands had different hues of gold mixed in with ruby. He wanted to bury his face in the soaking strands inhale that sent. His dragon growled softly at the idea, wanting him to do exactly that. She had been awakened this morning at his touch and it made that scent that was uniquely hers, plus her virginity, only that much more intoxicating to him. Alexis, in a short, flashy purple dress that hugged her curves too tightly, had nothing on Madelyn’s relaxed beauty.
“Shall we?” He offered her his arm and the startled look on her face, followed by a shy smile made him want to purr. She clearly wasn’t used to being spoiled and he had every intention of changing that. A Barinov dragon’s mate was going to have everything her heart desired. He led Madelyn to his office and she went straight to the window.
“Oh my God. This view,” she sighed dreamily and spread her arms out as if they were they were wings. He couldn’t blame her, the wide glass windows let it appear one could leap straight through and fly.
He came up behind her, placing one hand on her shoulder and then brushing her hair away from her neck so he could lean down and nuzzle her below her ear. She sighed and leaned into him.
She tried to turn in his arms, and he chuckled and let her tuck herself against him. She didn’t know it yet, but he was courting her in the way the way any good dragon would, with physical and emotional intimacy. She would someday crave him as much as he secretly craved her right now.
“Maybe I can teach you to fly someday.”
“When you kiss me, I don’t need wings,” she whispered, and he growled softly before he lowered his head, kissing her. Sudden flashes filled his mind, bits of childhood images, a girl dancing in the gardens surrounded by fireflies, her laughter filling his head, making him dizzy as though he’d had too much wine. Madelyn’s memory was in his mind, yet further proof that she was his true mate. He savored this glimpse into her mind and heart, hungering for more. Their lips parted and he stared down at her, a thousand things unsaid upon the tip of his tongue. Her dreamy gaze was that of a well-kissed woman, and he wanted someday to see her well-loved.
“Mr. Barinov . . . Your appointment is here.” Alexis announced from the doorway.
Grigori’s shoulders sagged slightly at the news.
Dimitri Drakor had arrived. It was inevitable. He held his onto his future mate just a little longer, not wanting to lose these last few moments of bliss before had to face the ugly and all too dangerous side of his life.
“Madelyn, stay here.”
“But—”
He shook his head. “Please, little one. I want you safe and out of sight. Dimitri is very dangerous. I don’t want him catching your scent and deciding he wants you. That would be . . .” He hesitated. “An unwelcome and dangerous complication.”
“Okay.” She stepped back, but then seemed to rethink it and leaned in to kiss his lips.
“You be safe too.” It sounded like a command, and he didn’t mind. His little professor cared about him.
“I will,” he said, but it tasted bitter on his lips because it was not something he should promise. She didn’t know that he might die if he had to face Drakor in battle. It was not something he wanted to consider, but it was possible.
He brushed his thumb over her lips and then forced himself to leave her. He didn’t know how to say goodbye to a mate he had not yet claimed. When he exited his office, Alexis was staring hard at Madelyn, her eyes narrowed.
“Who is that?”
“Her name is Madelyn Haynes. She’s my personal guest and someone very important to me. Please give her anything that she needs.”
Alexis smiled but Grigori knew the expression was forced. She was undoubtedly upset that he hadn’t chosen her, but he never would have. She wasn’t destined to be his mate.
Rurik was waiting by the door to the conference room, all traces of his good humor gone.
“You ready for this?” he asked.
Grigori nodded and strode into the conference room. Dimitri Drakor was seated in the back of the room, his handsome face turned into a deep scowl.
“Barinov,” Dimitri greeted coldly.
“Drakor,” he replied as he took a seat opposite the other man at the table.
Drakor drummed his fingers on the table before he finally spoke. “My son lies dead in Barinov territory, in a city that we deemed a neutral zone under our treaty.”
“He attacked my brother in his club and killed a mortal woman. Ruslan put all of us at risk of exposure to humans. If either of them had transformed, we could have been facing the Brotherhood of the Blood Moon. Surely you remember what they did to the dragons in Mongolia—an entire line, either killed or captured. God knows where the dragons are being held.” Even Dimitri scowled.
They’d met in Moscow the night the Mongolian dragons had gone to war against the Brotherhood, and they’d had to discuss if the Russian Imperials would fly to Mongolia and take a stand against hunters. The dragon family to the south of the Drakors’ territory had exposed themselves publicly to humans, and the Brotherhood had stepped in. Dimitri and Grigori, after long talks deep in to the night, had decided not to intervene. It had been a tough decision, but a smart one. Better to stay hidden. Grigori hadn’t condoned the behavior of the Mongolian dragons. They had been destroying human villages and people had been killed.
“I haven’t forgotten the Brotherhood, but this is not a matter that would concern them. Your brother broke the treaty. He . . . killed one of ours, in the neutral zone,” Dimitri said. He folded his hands and met Grigori’s gaze.
It amazed Grigori that the other man showed no real emotion at losing his son aside from scorn and anger. But it was just as Grigori had always suspected. The Drakors were intent on building empires and breeding more dragons to increase their numbers. Barinovs did their best to find their true mates when possible rather than breed for more progeny to use to take control of more territory. Unfortunately, their desire to find their destined loves had put his family at risk and made their numbers shrink.
“The treaty dictates the heads of family can settle this in single combat battle at the time and place of the victim’s family’s choosing, to be sealed by a blood oath.”
Grigori exhaled slowly. “I am ready.” He removed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. A blood oath would require a small cut on the inner forearms of each man which would then be mixed by pressing their arms together. Mixing their blood was a symbolic binding of each man to their word.
Dimitri stood, removed his own coat, and rolled up his sleeve. He produced a slender dagger bearing the Drakor family crest, two black dragons clawing at each other on their hind legs. He laid the silver edge to his skin and made a thin slice. A line of crimson blood trailed down his arm as he handed the blade to Grigori. The blade’s handle was a smooth, silvery wood, probably birch. It was a thing of beauty, and that surprised Grigori. For as long as he’d been alive, the Drakors had been the creatures of the dark, the dragons who would devour the earth if given half the chance. He never once imagined they might appreciate beauty on some level. Grigori sliced his own palm, ignoring the sting of the wound, and then handed the blade back to Drakor.
“Let our blood be our bond,” Dimitri said.
“And our word honor us.” Grigori answered as they grasped and pressed their cuts together. They kept their sliced palms together in a handshake for a few seconds then they let go, each man pr
oducing a handkerchief to clear away the blood.
Dimitri’s eyes settled on Grigori’s tattoo. The dragon image still showed itself as protectively covering a nest.
“It’s not on your back?” Dimitri asked.
Grigori shook his head. “My mother’s was on her arm, and so is mine.” He understood the confusion. It was rare for a dragon’s tattoo to be anywhere other than the back or the shoulder, but Grigori had always felt different from his brothers and his father. He’d always been more like his mother. She had called him a dragon who dreamed, and said that the beast inside him wasn’t quite the same as the others of their kind.
“When do you wish to settle this?” Grigori asked. He tried not to hold his breath, waiting to hear when he would have to fight.
Dimitri stared at his tattoo a second longer, then finished wiping his arm clean.
“I am taking Ruslan’s body to the east, where we will bury him in the black forest near our home. As he was my favorite son, I wish to honor him with two weeks of mourning before I fight. Even one such as I must grieve the loss of my child. I will contact you when I am ready to fight.”
“But—”
Dimitri’s cold vengeful gaze would have cut a lesser man down than Grigori. “You have more time to brush up on your fighting skills. Rurik has been fighting for you all these years. You’ve gone soft, Grigori, and for once, I’m letting you have an advantage—even though my son lies dead on your lands.”
It galled Grigori to know the Dimitri wasn’t wrong. He needed to retrain himself to fight again. He’d been battling men in boardrooms for the last hundred years, and his dragon was unused to bloody fights to the death.
“Very well. I will await your call.” He held out a hand for Dimitri to exit the conference room and they walked to the main elevators. As they passed by his office, Madelyn stood in the doorway, biting her lip, watching them with wide eyes. Dimitri glanced her way, then kept walking. When he reached the doors to the elevator he smiled, an expression of feral justice making Grigori’s inner dragon snarl.
Grigori Page 10
